


tripping over the missing stair

by katineto (mistalagan)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abusive Sponsors, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 06:39:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12053421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistalagan/pseuds/katineto
Summary: The man’s about to say something else, when Viktor fucking Nikiforov slides abruptly between them, treating Clifton to his patented million-dollar smile, and Yuri finds himself being tugged away by an iron grip on his forearm.“What thehell, Katsudon,” he snaps.





	tripping over the missing stair

_Make nice with the sponsors, Yura_ , Yakov had harrumphed before plodding off to wherever. He’s still obviously upset about the exhibition, and Yuri allows himself a satisfied smirk. Maybe he’s succeeded in showcasing that he’s _older_ now, capable of performing more mature programs. Not that he’s upset, really, at the set that led him to a Grand Prix Final gold.

He knows it’s in his best interests to listen to Yakov in this case, though, so he’s _making nice_. It’s early in the night; Otabek is stuck somewhere chatting with his coach, so Yuri’s left without interesting companionship anyway.

_Making nice_ , incidentally, is why he’s letting this guy clap him on the shoulder like he’s some sort of father figure to Yuri. “Beautiful programs, Mr. Plisetsky,” he says, like everyone else has, mostly praising Viktor’s choreography in Agape over anything _Yuri_ did. “But I have to say I enjoyed the gala the most. It’s really a different side than you’ve shown us before.”

Inwardly, Yuri preens. Outwardly, he smirks like that’s what he expected the man to say.

“John Clifton, with Reveille.” He shakes Yuri’s hand. “Actually, we’re introducing a new line of men’s jewelry,” the man continues, “And I think it would really be right up your alley. We’re thinking a winter-themed ad campaign: furs, mahogany, tigers at your feet—pure masculinity that’s not afraid to show off.”

“Oh?” He’s never actually _been_ in an advertising photoshoot before, besides the promotional ones done by the FFKK. His previous sponsors were all a little more low-key. Then again, they’d said that competing in seniors would open up doors…and Reveille’s not known for sponsoring skaters, but he’s heard of them before.

The man’s about to say something else, when Viktor fucking Nikiforov slides abruptly between them, treating Clifton to his patented million-dollar smile, and Yuri finds himself being tugged away by an iron grip on his forearm.

“What the _hell_ , Katsudon,” he snaps.

“Medalist selfie!” Katsudon chirps, dragging him towards an equally surprised (and fairly glum looking) JJ. He fumbles for his phone, hooks his right arm around JJ’s neck, and pulls Yuri in close. In the first picture he takes, he’s the only one smiling; eventually JJ catches on. Yuri continues to scowl. 

When Katsudon lets go of him, Yuri turns around to see his potential sponsor being herded over to the bar by Viktor, and he starts over to them with a huff. Katsudon doesn’t let him get that far, though, linking their arms and heading to the mostly-empty dance floor. Yuri squirms. “Are you _already drunk_?” he hisses, digging in his heels.

Katsudon stops short, his cheery grin sliding off his face. “Can we have a chat?” he says.

“No. Get off of me.” Yuri unsuccessfully tries to twist away, but the piglet’s stubborn.

“Don’t make a scene,” he sighs, “Five minutes?”

“ _I_ am not the one making a scene, piggy.”

“Yuri,” Katsudon lets go of him and glances out towards the hallway, “Five minutes.”

Yuri turns back to where he last saw Clifton, but he’s disappeared. He’ll have to search for him again anyway. He blows out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Five minutes.” He stalks past Katsudon to the open door.

The banquet room’s at the end of the hall. To the left of the door they leave through is a large window with a view of the city: skaters have been taking pictures there all evening, but right now it’s surprisingly clear. Some broad-leafed, fake looking plant sits in the center of the window; Katsudon fiddles with its leaves and proves it’s not fake after all.

“You just won the Grand Prix Final at the age of fifteen,” he starts, in his weird half-American, half-Japanese accent. “You’ve got a huge fanbase. Sponsors are going to be knocking down your door, okay? You’ve got your pick of the lot.”

Yuri _knows_ this. “Yeah? So what, are you jealous?” he says, snidely.

Katsudon gives him that condescending look, the kind that makes Yuri feel like he’s four years old and just stepped on the ice for the first time. It smooths into his normal worried expression, though. “What I’m trying to say,” he goes on slowly, “Is that you don’t need to accept the first offer you get.”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Katsudon. I’ve had sponsors before.” More than Katsudon had at his age, certainly. “Read the fucking contract, blah blah blah.” Or more accurately, get Yakov to read it for him.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Katsudon says softly. “Just—stay away from Clifton, okay?”

Yuri’s eyes narrow as he comes to a sudden realization. “What,” he repeats, “Are you _jealous?_ Just because he dropped your sponsorship when you were a _junior_ —“ he clamps his mouth shut as he reveals a little more about his knowledge of Katsudon’s career than he probably should. 

Katsudon doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does he doesn’t call Yuri out on it. “Look, Yurio—“

“—that’s not my _name_ —“

“—I didn’t have much of a choice, okay? You do. Promise me you’ll stay away from him,” he says with an air of finality. 

“ _Why?_ ” Yuri snarls back. Viktor’s probably still chatting him up, but he’d come to _Yuri_ , and Katsudon isn’t going to edge him out on this.

“He’s bad news. Yuri, _promise me_.” Katsudon grips Yuri’s shoulders and looks down at him with sharp eyes. Yuri blinks back, unnerved by the intensity of his stare. It seems to go on for hours, though it’s only a brief time before Yuri wrenches his eyes away. 

“What the hell, Katsudon,” he says, stepping back, shaken. “ _Fine_. I won’t talk to him, okay?” He shrugs, attempting nonchalance. “Like you said, I’ve got my pick, right?”

“Right,” Katsudon nods, face once again normal. He claps Yuri on the back. “Ah, we should go back in, they’ll wonder where we ran off to!” 

When they re-enter the banquet room, Katsudon disappears, probably to go hang off of Viktor for the rest of the night. Yuri snatches himself a drink of _non-alcoholic cider_ (ugh) and resumes standing around waiting for sponsors to come to him.

Across the room, Clifton catches his eye; but instead of heading over, the sponsor frowns and looks away. 

Yuri swears he can feel a shiver run down his spine.

He keeps his promise.

**Author's Note:**

> say hi to me at [katineto on tumblr](https://katineto.tumblr.com), I'm lonely there


End file.
